untitled zombie fic
by procol harum
Summary: "yeah. jesus christ doug, what the hell happened out there?" "some kinda disease, maybe... i don't know... and i hate to say what i think it is."


**_for 100_situations on livejournal / prompt: disease _**

21 jump street; doug / tom; pg-13; implied zombie apocalypse

**Warnings:** none

**Summary:**

_"yeah. jesus christ doug, what the hell happened out there?" _

_"some kinda disease, maybe... i don't know... and i hate to say what i think it is."_

**a/n:** i know it's all in lowercase. i typed it up pretty quick last night when i looked at the prompt table, saw disease, and got this idea. it was typed in word, so if there are any mistakes, it's all my fault (and if you see any, point them out?)

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"hey doug, ya see that?"

"see what? i can't see anything out here, tommy."  
tom waved his hands wildly in the air, as if that would clear away the darkness surrounding the two officers and giving doug clearer vision of whatever it was he was indicating. his hands fell back down against the tops of his thighs, now curling into fists, and hissed, "that," before pointing just to the right of where they were crouched behind a bush.  
"oh." doug saw it, saw that it was far off, but still gaining distance as it stumbled-walked towards them-towards where they were hidden, because no way that thing could know for sure that they were here.  
"it couldn't of seen us."  
"i don't like it."  
tom fell back on his ass, drawing his legs together so he was sitting in a cross-legged position, not caring that the dew soaked grass was quickly being absorbed by the thin cotton of his track pants. he never even noticed, really, not until after they had stood and doug had jokingly asked if tom had pissed his pants. his hands were curling, uncurling, curling, in his lap, his brow creased, trying to think.  
"tom?"  
"hm?"  
"there's another one now. i think we should go-"  
"shh!" tom hissed, hurriedly standing up, ducking still so that his head didn't go above the bush-it was a tall fucking bush, he thought-and pulled at the back of doug's  
t-shirt.  
"what the hell," doug mumbled, already standing-ducking like tom, staring at his friend intently, just able to see the outline of tom's face. he couldn't see his face, though, so he had no idea what tom thinking or feeling.  
"we should go. c'mon."  
doug followed tom as he snuck away from their hiding spot-"looks like you pissed your pants, tommy-boy" as they passed under a dimly glowing streetlamp-both still ducked down low enough that anything out there couldn't see them unless they were right at the bush, looking over... or coming around behind them, on the same side that doug and tom were hurrying away from. neither man felt too big a need to glance behind and double-check, because those things hadn't been that close, and from what they had seen so far they weren't all that fast, either.

they found an abandoned warehouse a few blocks away. it was vacant, surprisingly.  
"top," doug said immediately. "we can look out, see if anything's outside... and get ready if they come in."  
"yeah," tom agreed. "there's a couple staircases going up, and an elevator... elevator's probably fucking useless, though. gotta board up though. keep them out, as much as possible anyway."  
doug nodded in agreement. he wasn't sure how they were going to do any of that, not at the moment, but they could figure something out. they had to if they wanted to survive whatever the hell it was they were now in a fight against.

at the top they found the elevator had gotten stuck somewhere between the first and third floors.  
"we still need to board it up?" tom questioned and doug went to the hole in the hall, stuck his head in, looked down, looked up, and came back out. "nah, looks secure. unless those guys can climb better than they can walk."

they found two old oil drums. one of the stairwells at least still had a door intact. they left that one alone, feeling safer with a door between them and the stairs. they rolled the oil drums over to the second one, stacking them one on top of the other as close to the gaping rectangular hole as they could get without knocking them down the stairs.  
"here's hoping they're not strong enough to move those," tom mumbled.  
"even if they can, we'll hear 'em... we'll be ready."  
"yeah."

they sat down at the opposite side of the room, facing the doorway. the blocked stairwell was off to their side, but they wern't as worried about that one because the oil drums seemed stronger-safer-than a piece of wood.  
"you tired?" doug asked.  
"no. you?"  
"no."

they sat in silence for a few minutes before tom whispered. "i went to my mom's, before... before i went to your place. the place was a mess. blood everywhere. i don't think she's alive. or... alive-alive."

doug didn't know what to say so he grabbed tom maybe a little too roughly but not caring and pulled him into a tight hug. "it's gonna be okay," he mumbled into tom's neck. "your mom'll be fine, and ioki, and judy..."  
"yeah. jesus christ doug, what the hell happened out there?"  
"some kinda disease, maybe... i don't know... and i hate to say what i think it is."


End file.
